The Last of the Wilds
by Sea Rhapsody
Summary: The Wildmage spy of Tortall, Daine, finds herself stranded in a strange world after a disastrous mission. Taken in by the legendary Knights of Samartia, she becomes a valuable asset to their group. But, in the end, can they help her? TristanXDaine OC
1. Wanderings

_Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur, or Tamora Pierce's The Imortals quartet. _

_A/N:Just for readers of The Imortals, bits of that story line has been changed to suite my needs. Just try to keep an open mind! _

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**Prologue: Wanderings**

Veralidaine Sarasri was not having a good day. First she gets sent out on a pointless, if not suicidal, mission. In all honesty, she had absolutely no idea what Johnathan had been thinking… Oh yes, lets send out one of our most important spies after _a gods-forsaken rumor! _And lets not forget that if it _is_ true, then she would be in a lot of trouble, _all alone._ She was starting to wonder if he had gone insane. But she had to go—far be it to defy her king—so she did.

After several _gods-forsaken days_ of trying to blend in with the locals, she had been found out. How, she still didn't know; she was, after all, one of the kings best spies for a reason. What with her ever handy cat's eyes, and bear's claws. And her ability to become any animal that suited her. That definitely helped.

But they had been waiting for her, it seemed; she could only regret that she was never able to alert King Johnathan to the presence of a spy within his own court. Instead she had been bound, cuffed by magic repellant irons, and left to rot in a less than comfortable suite of _cells!_ She thanked the gods everyday that no one knew just what to expect from wild magic. She had managed to escape with nothing to show except a burnt pair of wrists—from where the magic binding the irons had backfired—and torn skirts.

But then the rumors _just had _to be true.

Why couldn't it just have been a case of Wild Magic? Maybe like hers? She wouldn't have minded a friend! But, no… I _just had_ to be some strange dimensional magic! In a land—not to mention world!—where it had never been before.

So here she was, alone, in a strange land, burnt at the wrists, and with no one in sight. And to top it all off… _SHE COULDN'T FIND KIT!_ The foolish dragonet, the only other being that had made it across with her, had decided to wander off after… well, she wasn't sure what. It had looked kind of like a human, like her, but it was… blue? Was she in such a strange dimension that the people were blue? Sure there were some blue 'people' in her realm, but it wasn't like Sirens of the Realm of the Gods, or the Undins of the lakes. It was dirty, hairy, dressed strangely, and a strange, _dirty_ blue. And it was obviously no magical creature. The newfound scholar in her itched to solve this mystery.

But she was getting ahead of herself. How was she supposed to solve anything, if she couldn't get out of this gods-forsaken forest? Sure, she loved nature as much as any other, perhaps mores so being so largely made up of it, but this was _too much_. Veralidaine—she hated that name, it really was just Daine—gave her sumptuous, flaring skirts a vicious tug, for the umpteenth time ripping it away from another snagging branch. The middle of a forest was no place for court garb. She didn't like court garb to begin with, it was no more enjoyable when fighting through brambles and close set trees. She snorted. Yet another thing to be angry with King Johnathan about. Not only had he sent her out on this stupid excuse for a mission, but she had to disguise herself as a court lady—full skirts and all.

Finally, after a full morning of walking, Daine made it past the tree line. Only to find herself in a single, small clearing. And still surrounded by trees. She laughed—it was more like a sob—and flopped down on the ground. So much for wishful thinking.

"Why? Why me?" She look up, and shouted to the sky. "Is this punishment for not joining you, all those years ago?"

Then it started raining.

Daine sighed, propping her stubborn chin on her hand. "Just great. This is _just great!_ It can't get any worse now, can it?" She lifted her face to the sky, trying to catch the rain in her mouth. At least if she was going to get wet, she would get a drink out of it, too. Tired of the whole situation, she let herself fall back, not caring about her dress. It wasn't like it was in good condition anyway. She squinted her eyes, resigning herself to just watching the rain fall. She knew she should find some shelter, but she couldn't be bothered. None of this really felt… real.

She felt unattached. The silence of this world was deafening. It was almost like the People were missing. She sat bolt upright. That was it! _That's_ what had been bothering her about this place. None of the People had come to great her upon her arrival to this realm. That never happened. Daine reached out, trying to find any form of animal life. It wasn't there. Or if it was… she felt her heart clench. Had she been removed from the fold? Desperate now, she reached further, sweeping even the very edges of her awareness. It was all so empty.

The tears started to rise, choking her. She really was alone now. She couldn't even feel Kit. Things really _couldn't_ get worse. She'd never truly been alone before; even after her family had died, she'd had Brokefang and his wolves. Then she had her new family, Horse-mistress Ouna, Lady-Knight Alanna, the Royals, her teacher Numair, and Kit. Throughout it all she'd had the People, and the ever trusty Cloud. Now she had nothing as she sat shivering in the rain.

She closed her eyes, letting this new despair consume her. All alone. The Wild Magic was still there, she could feel it, but with nothing for it to touch… it meant nothing. So immersed in her own grief, she didn't notice the slight tingle that sometimes accompanied the People until it became a veritable itch under her skin.

Her head shot up, and she looked wildly around for what was perhaps the single link she would have to this world. The only one of the People she had felt so far. Maybe her salvation. Nothing there.

Finally she looked up, squinting to keep the rain out of her eyes.

There, reeling drunkenly, was a large bird all but plummeting for the ground. It spread it's wings one last time, instinctively trying to slow its descent. Stark against the grey cloud it wheeled, flashes of something sharp against its wing. A harsh cry sounded throughout the clearing, like music to her ears. She stood, tripping as her sopping wet skirts clung to her legs.

"Wing-sister!" The bird, a hawk she saw, gave no indication of hearing. Despair threatened again. Did she not understand her? "Wing-sister…"

The hawk crashed-landed in the mud and stood, head drooping and right wing trailing. Daine was horrified to see the arrow through her wing. She approached the injured bird carefully, crooning. "Wing-sister…It's alright. Everything will be alright. I can help you." She slowly reached for the hawk, and as soon as her fingers brushed the feathers of her back, she snapped at her. Prepared for the response, Daine managed to evade the sharp beak of her patient.

She narrowed her eyes. "You won't get better if you act like that! Don't you feel me? Don't you hear me? I won't hurt you…" The bird still didn't respond. Pushing aside the hopeless feeling that filled her, she reached out again. The feeling of the bird tickled her, but slipped through her fingers like slippery threads. The Wild Magic, the magic of the People, was there, but she couldn't touch it. Putting a trace more power behind her touch, she grasped at the copper strands again. This time they held. And connected.

A roaring filled her ears. Unusually, she couldn't tell if they were her 'ears' or her _ears_. She'd learned to tell actually hearing apart from the hearing she did with her mind years ago. Then everything snapped into place, and she could hear everything. The rushing of a river, the swaying of trees, the squeaking of bats, the hooting of owls, the howling of wolves… everything. And she felt _them._ And she knew that the People could feel her now, too. She hurriedly put up her old mental blocks. She'd worry about this later.

"Wing-sister… can you hear me now?" The hawk was staring up at her, her beady eyes wide.

_Wing-sister?_ The tentative brush of another awareness. Daine grinned in delight, and relief filled her. Maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought she was.

_Yes. Now let me heal you._ The hawk surrendered gratefully, sagging against the woman's chest. Gently pulling the hawk's wing from her body, Daine regarded the arrow, deciding how to pull it out. Bracing the hawk against her chest, she grasped the longer end of the shaft and snapped it, swiftly pulling it out after. She winced at the hawk's cry of pain.

"Shhh… It's alright. It's alright." She stroked the hawk's head, soothing, and ruffled her chest feathers. Then she settled against a nearby tree, sitting tailor style. Cradling her newest friend in both arms, hunching over her to keep her from the worst of the rain, Daine closed her eyes, slowing her breathing. She was about to enter the healing trance when she felt the heard the excited chatter of a visiting squirrel behind the tree line. Someone was coming.

Daine surged to her feet just moments before a man came striding into the clearing—quietly, mind you. He moved like a hunter. Her quick eyes took in the half-full quiver at his hip, and the bow held firmly in his hand. Anger filled her, showing clearly in her eyes as they rose to meet his. She caught her breathe, and would have taken a step back if she hadn't already been backed against a tree. His eyes… They were a cold blue, and deadly. The threat clear in them made her stiffen her spine, her arms tightening around the bird. She saw his eyes flicker down to the beast before meeting her own again. Now the threat was doubled.

She didn't even think to feel relieved, human contact or not.

Gathering her courage, Daine stood straighter. "Trying your hand at hawk hunting, were you?" The bite in her tone was obvious.

His eyes widened so slightly she might not have noticed. Then his jaw clenched. As mildly as possible, "That is _my_ bird."

Daine shuddered; there was danger in him, and… something in his voice made her heart race. For the first time she took the time to see _him,_ as a person rather than just a threat. There were braids scattered throughout his wild, dark brown hair, falling into his eyes and partially covering his strong, whiskered features. He was tall, and obviously well muscled. A warrior born and raised. He frightened her.

But she couldn't back down.

"She is hurt. You tell me you are not the one to hurt her?" Daine had to be careful. She would not risk her savior.

"No." He remained stoic, and threatening, but his eyes softened slightly. Maybe she would gain more than just one friend in caring for this bird. And maybe… safety? It was obvious, no matter how stoic he chose to be, that he cared for the beast. And my her lack of fear, the beast cared for him as well.

She waited for him to speak again; an excuse, an explanation, anything. When nothing was forthcoming she surrendered. Relaxing—she now knew he would be no threat to her if he saw her as no threat to him—she slowly sank back to the ground. She was exhausted. After running all night, and walking all morning, and in a gown nonetheless, she was starting to reach her limit as the strength of adrenaline left her. And she still had to heal the hawk. She sighed, letting her head fall back against the tree as she held the bird closer. She heard the crunch of footsteps approaching her, but couldn't make herself move. Her body was shutting down.

_Wing-sister?_ The hesitant touch of the hawk's mind against her own brought a slight, tired smile to her face.

_I'm sorry wing-sister. The healing will have to wait. _

Then she felt the hawk being gently lifted from her arms. She didn't have the energy to cry out when the rough fingers brushed her burn marks. Or to protest when the man started to walk away.

The hawk did.

The sounds of a franticly beating wings, beating against something hard, and the screeches of the distressed hawk filled the air. "What are you doing, you foolish bird? You know me!" Lethargically Daine reached out, touching her mind to the birds. _Be calm…_ The hawk only fought harder. She must have felt Daine fading.

The sound of footsteps ceased. "You want me to bring the girl with me." The man sounded surprised. Then he sighed.

The last thing Daine was aware of was being lifted into strong arms. Then she blacked out. _  
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	2. Upon Waking

**Chapter 2: Upon Waking **

"Who do you think she is? _What_ do you think she is?" Daine woke to the sound of voices. As she would do in any other unfamiliar situation, she faked sleep. Keeping her breathing steady, and her eyes closed, she took stock of her surroundings. She was cocooned in blankets, and lying on the ground. There were six horses, warhorses if she heard correctly, no more than ten steps away. She would have allies there at least.

_Greetings, Hoof-sisters. Hoof-brothers. _She fought the urge to smile when they all nickered in response.

"I don't know… She can't be Woad, but she doesn't look Roman either. The closest I could place her as would be a Briton, but even that would be a stretch." So there were at least two people. Probably a third, as neither of them sounded like her probable rescuer. Or captor. Actually, by the number of horses there were probably at least six. Six people—men?—for six horses.

"Doesn't matter. We should have just left her. We don't know if she's a threat." At least three, then. She'd have to watch her step with this one; he didn't seem to like the idea of her. He would be the suspicious one. "And didn't you see how the horses reacted to her. And Tristan's bird. She's probably a witch!"

So, her rescuer _was_ there. And his name was Tristan. She filed that away for later; names were power. She completely ignored the witch comment. It was good, though, to know how magic was regarded in this new world. She would have to be extra careful, then.

"How can you say that, Lancelot?" That was man number one again. He would be the one to try to get close to first, a champion at heart. And now she had another name; Lancelot. Tristan was her rescuer, and Lancelot was the one who would have left her to die… all right. "You of all people would leave a lady to die?"

"A lady, no. But this _Lady,_" it would be difficult indeed to miss the heavy sarcasm in his tone, "may be no lady. How many Woadish _ladies_ have tried to leave _us_ to die?"

"But this Lady is no Woad!"

"And how do you know that?"

"Let it rest." This was a command, and obviously said by someone well respected. Both men silenced immediately. Four men accounted for now. "If you did not notice, you are arguing over her head."

"Thank you, Arthur." A third name, and a fifth man. The last horse must belong to Tristan. The man sounded frustrated; he must be the healer of the group. "You two idiots are going to wake her."

Daine chose then to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was a pair of brown eyes. "I think it's a bit late for that, Lads." The final man. Still no Tristan. Maybe she was wrong… there _were _other birds. It didn't have to be _her_ hawk. The thought filled her with a type of desolation, and she almost unconsciously reached out to touch her newest friend's mind. The connection reassured her. The hawk was all right, at least.

All six men quickly crowded around her. She was overwhelmed for a moment, nervously looking around at the warriors—they were obviously warriors, armored and armed to the teeth. She really _would_ need to watch her step.

"My Lady?" It was the commanding man, Arthur, and she could finally put a face to the name. Curly dark hair framed stern features, but the kindness in his bright green eyes rivaled even King Johnathan's. This man was a natural leader, and very likely one she would not hesitate to serve. "Are you well?"

Daine almost laughed aloud. Was she well? Of course, she had only been through hell and back in a ball gown. The past few days had not been kind to her… but this man had no way of knowing that. And so, she just smiled wryly up at him, struggling to sit up. A man with long blond hair hurriedly moved to support her. "Well enough."

He smiled back at her. "For that I am glad." Then he sobered, and reached for her hand. Gently holding her just above the wrist, he held her arm up, regarding the horrific burns in the light. "Can you tell me how you came by these?"

She could not hold his intense, but sympathetic gaze. "No."

"See!" Lancelot, a handsome man with loosely curling black hair and dark brown eyes, leapt to his feet and strode angrily away. "She will be the death of you, Arthur! Mark my words. This will be a mistake."

Daine stared wide-eyed after him, then turned a questioning look on Arthur. He sighed, and patted her knee. "Don't mind him. He has been out of sorts lately." He shot a warning glare at Lancelot, the other man resolutely turning away. " You do not need to tell us, if it is too difficult. But can you at least tell me your name, and why you are here?"

Daine took a deep breath, considering. It couldn't hurt to tell the truth. Or at least part of it. It's not as if anyone in this world would know her. "Daine. Veralidaine Sarasri, at your service."

She attempted a sweeping bow, a hint of her inner Player peaking through. Over the years she had often wondered if the Player sense was contagious; each length of time she spent with her Player friend Evan added a bit more Player to her personality. Now that she thought of it, maybe that was why she made such a good spy. She could act.

A large, bald man—the one who had announced her waking—let out a loud, booming laugh. He slapped her on the back, making her lurch forward. "I like you, girl! I be Bors."

"You most certainly are…" Daine offered him a bemused smile. Everyone else laughed. "Nice to meet you Bors."

Her supporter spoke up next, his voice rumbling against her back. "And I, my lady, am Gawain. And that Pup over there is Galahad." He pointed to her other side, at a man with dark brown hair and eyes. He was obviously younger than she was, and his petulant scowl at the name only made him look younger.

"Thank you Gawain. You make a comfortable pillow, by the way." She reached back and patted his chest. She knew by the other men's laughter that her pillow was blushing. "And hello, Galahad."

The younger man's scowl quickly brightened, and he nodded. "I hope you feel better soon."

"I am Dagonet." The gentle looking giant took her hand and started smoothing salve over her burns. "These burns are bad. I hope someday you will trust us enough to tell us why."

Daine's smile saddened. "I hope so too. You are the one that helped me?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. But it was Tristan who found you and brought you to us. He is out scouting."

"Scouting?" She carefully schooled her expression. She would see what she could find out about her new companions.

"Yes, Lady. I am Arthur. The man sulking by the horses is Lancelot. I am the commander of these knights and he is my Second." Arthur eyed her suspiciously. He had noticed her evasion. "You must understand… our duty is to protect these lands. We were in the middle of a patrol when Tristan brought you to us. So I am afraid that we _must_ know why you are here."

"You see me as a threat?"

Arthur sighed. "Truthfully? No. But we did not survive so long by being careless. It is not everyday we find a girl in the woods."

Daine knew then that no charade she could choose would work on this man. She would need to keep all of her answers as close to the truth as possible. But, judging by Lancelot's reaction, she could not tell them of the magic. It was obvious just how it was regarded: as a menace. The fact filled her with a sort of dread. Her Wild Magic was too conspicuous to hide for long.

Galahad gave her a reassuring smile, patting her knee much as his commander had done earlier. The knight must have seen her discomfort. "Don't worry, Lady. We are honorable knights; we will not harm you. You must not fear us."

"Now, Lady, will you tell us how you came to be here?"

Daine looked at Arthur for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded. "I don't actually know where 'here' is…"

"How can you not know?" Lancelot had made his way back to the cluster of knights and lady. Then, sneering, "you are just trying to evade the question! You think us fools, _Lady?_"

"Lancelot!" Arthur glared at his Second. Lancelot was unrepentant.

"As I was saying," Daine continued calmly. She wouldn't let him ruffle her feathers. "Someone just dumped me out there early this morning. Or late last night… I'm not entirely sure. I'm sure you can all tell I'm a foreigner. I had no idea where I was, and I still don't. It was only after a full morning of wandering that your scout found me."

Arthur regarded her for a moment, weighing her words. Then he nodded curtly, rising. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now."

"Arthur! You must be mad!"

Arthur ignored him. "Rest now. We will do your best to aide you. We will take you back to the Wall with us, when we go. Unless you have somewhere to go?" When she shook her head, he looked around at the knights, thinking. "When we move on you will ride with Gawain. You seem to get on well enough."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. I don't think you realize how much this means to me."

Lancelot snorted.

"Dagonet, look after her. Be sure she is ready to travel as soon as Tristan returns. I hope you feel well soon, Lady." After giving her a small smile, Arthur pushed Lancelot away towards the horses. She could here him berating his Second as they walked away. "What do you think you're doing? She's naught but a lady, and an injured lady as well. You have no reason to hate her, so don't act like you do!"

Then his voice faded, and she was tempted to take on bat ears to hear them better. She knew she couldn't risk it. She could just ask the horses later, anyway; they would tell her all that went on.

The sound of a throat being cleared brought her attention back to the remaining knights. "Lady, may I continue tending to your wrists?" She hadn't even noticed that he had stopped. She nodded absentmindedly, holding her wrists out to him. She wondered for the first time just how much she could trust them. She knew from experience just how easy it was to pretend to be something—or someone—you're not. She would just have to give _them_ the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't as if she had any other choice…

Daine wasn't even going to think about trying to escape. She would be completely helpless! She didn't know this world, she didn't know the humans, and she didn't know the People. She didn't even know how her Wild Magic would react. She hadn't tried to puzzle that out yet. Now that she could hear the People again, would all of the rest fall into place? Would her magic be the same? She would have to get away for a time, to figure it all out. She only hoped it would be soon; she hated the idea of not knowing.

"Lady?"

Daine jerked her head up, her heart skipping a beat. She rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. She was normally more aware than that. But first thing's first. "It's just Daine… I'm no Lady."

"Daine then. Are you well?" She could see the blatant concern on the gentle giant's face. Her heart constricted; he reminded her so much of Numair. Both gentle _and_ dangerous. A difficult combination. Though he wouldn't be nearly as comfortable at a court function… Tears came to her eyes then. She would never see her teacher again. She'd never see _any_ of her friends again.

"Daine?" She looked up at Galahad, seeing his frown. Now she felt bad; she had worried these people who had been so kind to her. She couldn't stop the single tear from trailing down her cheek, however. The man carefully gathered her into his arms. "Hush, now. All will be well."

"What is the matter, Lady?" Daine looked up to see that Arthur had returned. Great. So now she could worry him, too…

"It is nothing…" When he arched an eyebrow at her, she sighed. He really was much like King Johnathan. She let out a watery laugh. If she did not laugh, she knew she would start crying again. "It is just that… it is only now sinking in that I may never see my family again!"

His gaze softened, and he laid a hand on her head. "Do not worry so. We will help you get home. Now rest... it will be a long day of riding tomorrow."

He strode away, his red cape flaring behind him. She stared after him, wondering. Then, too quietly for her remaining companions to hear, "If only you could."

She slept well that night, the comforting crooning of the People soft on her mind.


	3. Can You Hear?

_Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur, or Tamora Pierce's The Imortals quartet._

_A/N:Just for readers of The Imortals, bits of that story line has been changed to suite my needs. Just try to keep an open mind! Also, you don't need to have read the Immortals, or any other Tamora Pierce book to understand this. It just helps get there quicker..._

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**Chapter 3: Can You Hear? **

Daine's eyes snapped open. She laid perfectly still, only her eyes moving as she carefully surveyed her surroundings. Such survival skills had been instilled in her since she was barely thirteen. _All_ of the People knew better than to move when there was the scent of danger in the air. To do so was a quick way to be caught, especially when you were the hunted. Then she realized what was wrong; the silence was ominous.

None of the animals were up and about, going through their usual routines. There was no rustle of mice in the underbrush. There was no flutter of bats in the air, or even a hint of their nearly unheard voices. The foxes were silent, and not even the owl, the most fearsome of night's hunters, ventured forth. Even when she had been disconnected, she could still hear them going about their business; she just couldn't feel them. Now, though, she could feel them, but not hear them. They were all laying low. They could scent the danger, too.

Fully aware now, Daine carefully slid out of the bedroll that had been lent to her by the ever helpful Gawain. She had felt bad to take it from him, but he had insisted, saying it would not be right for a lady to sleep unprotected on the hard ground. Galahad, being the closest to her height, had given her a pair of breaches and a large, white broadcloth shirt; at least she didn't still need to wear the ruined ball-gown. Arthur had been apologetic of having nothing more ladylike. She hadn't bothered to contradict him.

She crept over to the still slumbering Arthur and regarded him for a moment. Would he be one to react violently to being woken up? It didn't matter; she didn't have a choice. She still remembered clearly the first time she had had this feeling. That night she, the Queen's Riders' Horse Mistress, the King's Champion and a camp full of the Kings Own had nearly been taken by Spindreds. It didn't feel exactly the same, but she had been no more than thirteen, and new to her power. She had spent long years refining her senses since then.

She laid a cautious hand on the Commander's shoulder, and shook him gently. "Arthur." He startled awake, his hand automatically going to the sword at his side. "Don't! It's just me."

"Daine?"

She nodded, moving back as he sat up. Then, incase he couldn't see her, "Yes." She knew that most two-legers didn't have the eyesight that she did.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to comb it back to a semblance of normalcy. Then he rubbed his face, and she instantly felt bad for waking him. But she couldn't afford not to. "What is it?"

"Something's wrong."

He looked up sharply, his green eyes meeting her stormy blue. "What?" He quickly scanned the clearing, taking note of all his knights. She felt the corners of her lips quirk up; he really was a good leader. Concerned with the welfare of those he led. When he found nothing out of place, he turned a frown on her.

"Listen!" She was all urgency now. The feeling was getting stronger. "It's too quiet. There're no animals out. Is your scout back yet?"

"No."

"Should he be?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then, as little more than a whisper, "Yes." With that he stood swiftly, and went to wake Lancelot.

Daine ran over to where Galahad and Gawain were lying and shook them awake. There was no time to be gentle now. "Up. Now!" She was about to run off to get Dagonet when a hand wrapped around her upper arm. It was Gawain.

"What's going on?"

She shook his hand off. "No time now. Something's coming! Get up!" She turned, found Dagonet already on his feet, waking Bors, and nodded to him. At least _he_ had some sense. Then she looked for Arthur. He was still arguing with Lancelot.

Lancelot was scowling, and gesturing wildly. Daine found it amusing, cute even, that this _grown man_ was able to act like a child at a time like this. But they _didn't have the time!_ She quickly marched up to them and placed herself firmly between them. She saw Lancelot open his mouth to say something and glared at him, shutting him up. Then she proceeded to ignore him. "Arthur, do you have a bow I could use? Or anything, really." She hated going into trouble unarmed. No matter who she was with.

She almost laughed when she saw the men's shocked expressions. Arthur recovered first. "You are proficient with the bow?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Did you really think I was defenseless?" She looked anxiously around the clearing. Whatever was coming was getting closer. "Please. I think we're running out of time."

"And just what would you know?" Lancelot had regained his tongue. He was glaring angrily at her, his eyes dark. "You are a woman, no warrior! Do you want _chaos,_ girl?"

Daine drew herself up to her full height. She was finished with his attitude. She had gone into full Leader mode, and her power became obvious. She wouldn't stand for this… this idiocy! She was alpha! "You idiot. Listen. Don't you hear?" All the knights had gathered around them by now. They looked at her strangely. "Exactly! There's nothing there. No mice. No foxes. No bats. Not even the owl stirs this night! Something is coming that can scare even the great owl into hiding."

"Lancelot. Tristan's not back yet." Arthur's quiet admission silenced Lancelot before he even got started. "I asked him to report back with the dying of the sun."

The dark knight sighed tiredly. He wouldn't even look at her. "So… something really is wrong."

Daine clenched her jaw; she was growing weary of his stubbornness. "Yes. Something _is_ wrong. So I would suggest doing whatever you lot do to prepare for battle. Because one is _right on our doorstep."_ By the strange look in his eyes Daine could tell that her sudden dominance had shaken him. Well, too bad. She continued on anyway. "And you know what? I _do_ know what I'm talking about; _every single_ time _this_ has happened, good people have almost _died!_ The only reason they didn't was because I managed to _listen_ to the natural warnings of the earth, and warn them. Animals grow silent when danger is scented in the air!"

Arthur regarded her with a guarded expression, his eyes hard now, and she realized that she might have made a mistake. "And how _would_ you know of such things, Lady? I have been lenient with my questions, but this one you will answer."

And she had just made things that much harder for herself.

She visibly deflated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. How much could she tell them? _Should_ she tell them? She did _want_ to tell them… Arthur really did remind her of John, inspiring a kind of loyalty. She recognized a type of caring, and concern, for those he felt responsible for. She could clearly see the bonds of brotherhood between all of the knights, and their leader. A part of her wanted to be a part of that again, after being so thoroughly cut off from her own extended family. She was very much the pack animal, needing the close-knit companionship family presented. After being reintroduced to two-legger company, she had grown to depend on it. It almost frightened her how much.

She had been silent for too long.

A knife had appeared at her throat, held by a darkly glowering Lancelot and accompanied by a protesting yell from his commander. She lifted her chin, completely stilling. Then a voice growled in her ear, and she shivered in fear. A dark strength was emanating from his very form. "I knew we couldn't trust you."

Her heart aching, she looked desperately around at the other knights. Their eyes were just as cold. It was then that she decided. She would tell them as much as she could, as honestly a she could. Everything that didn't raise uncomfortable questions. Everything but the Magic. Nothing less would suffice. Feeling her surrender, Lancelot backed off, carefully pulling the knife from her skin. She started quietly.

"My village was raided, my family killed, and my home destroyed by bandits when I was thirteen. The village wouldn't take me in; I'm a bastard, you see, and the headman wanted my Ma. I was left to the wolves. Literally."

She let out a snort of derisive laughter. Literally. They would never know just how true that was. Arthur raised an eyebrow, but she just shook her head and continued.

"I managed to survive by learning from the earth, and its most primitive creatures. I hid when they hid, and hunted when they hunted. They'd survived so long like that, so why couldn't I? But the men of my village were hunting me. Revenge for a wrong I'd never done. A crime I'd committed simply by being born. The village priest had managed to convince them that I was Demonspawn, and that I needed to die. I lived like that, a half life—running, and hunting, and drinking from streams—for months before I finally remembered I was truly human, and not one of the beasts I'd tried so hard to become. But the village was poor, and the winter was coming, so the hunters had to turn around; they were no longer a threat."

"One moment." Arthur's voice was commanding. Diane jumped, her eyes focusing on him again. She'd been so focused on the story, reliving it even as she carefully chose what to reveal. She gave him a slight, wary nod, prompting him to continue. "You say your village was poor? Then how do you have such a good grasp of language? I could almost liken you to a Roman noble, in your level of education."

She only blinked in irritation. "I was getting to that. If you would let me continued…"

Arthur leaned back, amusement joining the suspicion in his eyes. Daine quickly glanced at each of her other listeners, trying to gauge their reactions. Galahad and Gawain were intent upon the story, hanging off her every word. Dagonet, on the other hand, was frowning slightly, and Bors was playing with his knives, a tragic look in his eyes. She had to wonder if he had children of his own… She didn't bother looking at Lancelot.

She launched back into her story. "Once I'd remembered to walk on my own hind legs again," At the men's looks she ducked her head, blushing. She'd best make light of all of this. There was no way they could possibly understand the whole _impact_ of it all without the knowledge of Magic. "Yes, I had started moving like an animal. Things like this often get worse before they get better."

Anyway, it was near a festival day in a nearby city, so I waited. I ended up getting a job. An amazing opportunity. You see, Onua was important where she was from. She was the Horsemistress for an important scouting group in this…city. The Riders. Obviously, they all had to be able to ride, and each rider would be given a pair of horses. She took me in because I was a fair hand with animals; it was not common for the breed of Mountain Pony they used to behave, but they did around me. I went back to her city with her, and she kept me on.

I ended up a student to one of the head… scholars of the city, who was a good friend of the ruling family. They, especially some of the knights that stayed there, taught me and helped me to sharpen my skills. Sometimes I would go out scouting with the Riders or the knights. But now I'm here, and far from all I knew. And I don't even know if my friends are safe…"

And that was _more _than enough.

The camp was silent for a few long moments, and Daine kept her head down now, not wanting to see their reactions to the rest of her story. She didn't know what women were allowed to do there, but feared by their earlier reactions that it wasn't much. Would they cast her out?

She shivered, the itching feeling from earlier returning. It had all but muted itself during the storytelling, but it was back full force now. She didn't know if that was good or bad. She would bet on bad. Her sense of urgency returning, she jumped to her feet, looking boldly up at them, allowing only a hint of the pain she felt into her steady gaze. "Is that enough for you?"

Arthur at least had the decency to look sheepish, and somewhat ashamed. "Yes, My Lady. I _am_ most sorry… I did not think…"

She smiled, already forgiving. She knew he had only been reacting out of concern for his men and his land. She might have done the same, and she was sure most of her friends _would_ have. "It's alright. But we really do need to get moving. Whatever it is, feels closer now."

Arthur nodded decisively, and started shouting out orders. Galahad solemnly handed her a bow, and she admired the workmanship. She'd never seen a bow like that… It would have good results. She could feel it.

They broke camp and stood, back to back, watching the woods.

They'd be ready.


	4. Learn To Be Still

_Disclaimer: Don't own. Thank you._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Learn to be Still**

"So where are these enemies of yours, girl?" She knew that Lancelot was taunting her, but she decided to take the question at face value. It wasn't an insult unless she allowed it to be. So she ignored his sneer, and answered his question anyway.

"In all honesty? I don't rightly know. They could really be anywhere… and anything."

Arthur's eyes sharpened as he turned to her. She could see his doubts forming. "What do you mean? You do not know what this danger is?"

Daine rolled her eyes, not caring right now if it was disrespectful. Had they honestly thought that she would actually know _what_ was coming? "No, sorry. I could tell you a time this feeling prepared me for an attack from enemy soldiers, but I could also tell you a time this feeling _tried_ to prepare me for an attack by a rabid bear."

Galahads eyes widened, but didn't move from the surrounding trees. "A rabid bear?"

She nodded, laughing quietly. "A rabid bear. I have to tell you, that was quite a sight, and not one I would like to see again. He—"

She fell silent when the sound of a twig snapping pervaded the air. All of the knights stood straighter, and took on an air of total alertness. Then she muttered, "Well, I don't think this one is a rabid bear."

"What?"

"The sound was too quiet. Trust me, if this were a rabid bear, it would be far too heavy to make such a quiet sound." That and she couldn't sense a bear within her thirteen mile radius.

"Ah." Arthur nodded weakly, obviously out of his element in the talk of rabid bears.

Another snap sounded, this time on the other side of the clearing. Daine knocked an arrow, readying her bow even as she saw the men raise their swords and axes. Then they were flooded by blue.

"Woads!" The knights sprang into action, moving to meet their attackers.

They came from all sides. Swarming into the clearing, the men were little more than blurs of blue and black. She tensed, preparing for the impact she knew soon would come. Somewhere in the woods Daine heard the distressed chatter of a disturbed squirrel, and she felt a sort of rage fill her chest. She pushed it away, and reached out to the people in the area.

_Get out! Leave now… You need not die for the mistakes of these twoleggars. Spread the word of this battle, and steer clear! _ She felt the animals oppose her—they wanted to help—and added a touch of command to her tone. _Go! You cannot help me now… it is too great a risk! _She felt their presence withdraw, and took relief in that.

She fired five arrows into the oncoming mass of bodies, one after the other, in the span of a few seconds. Then they were too close; her bow would be useless. She quickly shouldered the quiver, getting it out of the way, and grasped the bow like a staff. At least she wouldn't be _completely_ defenseless.

She tried not to think about the men, lying dead in the leaves, and the families that would have to mourn them.

Then a blue painted face was thrust close to hers. She stumbled back a step, a man leaning heavily into the bow she now held close across her chest. She wilted slightly under his strength as he bore down on her. He was too close to her; she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek as he said something in a different language. A language she didn't understand.

She fell back again.

As she was slowly pushed back, step by faltering step, she saw her opponent clearly for the first time. The skin beneath the swirling blue paint was brown and weather-worn. A mop of dark hair covered his head. His eyes were murder filled, a piercing blue.

He was just as human as she.

That didn't make her feel any better.

With a grunt and a great burst of strength she shoved him away. She didn't give him any time to recover before swinging the bow around, landing a cracking blow against the side of his head. No sooner had he fallen than another took his place.

She kept being driven further and further back, as man after man she felled. She felt tears building with each man she hurt. She'd always hated this part! And it was one thing to kill someone from afar, and another one entirely to bash their heads in, to feel the reverberating crack of wood against bone. There was a reason she was a spy, and not a warrior. But she was quickly getting tired.

She was an archer, not a staffsman!

She screamed, one of the woad's blades coming uncomfortably close. A hand fisted in the back of her shirt, yanking her out of reach of another attempted blow. She spun, prepared to strike her attacker, only to come face to face with Gawain. He was panting lightly, but seemed otherwise no worse for wear. He pulled her against his chest, one arm wrapping around her waist as the other wielded an axe with deadly accuracy.

Daine flinched against him when he buried his axe into a Woad's head. The arm around her waist squeezed reassuringly. "Can you use an axe, or a sword?"

The question was simple, and simply asked. But it made her feel strangely inadequate. "No. I—"

Gawain cut her off. There was no time for explanations now. "Then get up a tree. I'll cover you. This is no place for an archer."

"I know, but—"

"NOW!"

He pushed her away, plucking another axe from the fingers of a dead man. He plowed ahead into the writhing mass of bodies, swinging his axes with renewed furry.

Daine looked after him for only a moment before scurrying over to a nearby tree. She scaled it quickly. She'd never been so grateful for those odd hours she'd spent with Zeke in the trees of his native home. She decided then that to be a monkey was truly a beautiful thing. Swinging from tree to tree. Scrambling up them as easy as one would run...

She shook her head. This was no time to be thinking about such things!

She settled herself securely amidst the branches, thoroughly checking her bowstring. She was relieved that she had not somehow managed to snap it. Artlessly pulling an arrow from her quiver, she put it to the string, taking careful aim. Her companions had now completely mingled in with the Woads…

She _wouldn't_ hit them.

Daine let the arrow fly, felling a Woad who had been sneaking in behind Lancelot. The man started, his eyes darting to the Woad dead at his feet before quickly finding her up in her tree. He nodded once to her, eyes guarded. Then he spun. His double swords came around, arcing gracefully to behead and eviscerate a Woad who had gotten particularly close. Daine allowed herself to admire his form, for a moment; she'd never seen anything quite like that back in Tortall!

Forcing her attention back to the slowing battle, Daine drew another arrow. She may be useless in close-quarters without her magic, but from here she _could_ help. For what seemed like both forever and no time at all, she meticulously picked off the Woads who managed to get past the guards of her new friends.

Draw, string, fire. Draw, string, fire. Draw, string… fire. She fell into a pattern, loosing herself in the spirit of the bow. Reveling in the rhythm of the weapon. The slide of wood against leather, the twang of the raw-hide bowstring releasing its tension, the distant thud of the arrow meeting its target that she could almost hear; all like music to her. It was times like this that Daine always felt closest to her father.

It was the deep voice of a horn in the distance that broke her from her half hypnotized state. Daine watched, bemused, as the remaining Woads melted back into the trees. She looked around at her companions; they looked only slightly confused. She watched, lowering her bow, as each man slowly relaxed.

Arthur surveyed the area, taking note of each of his knights. Then Daine saw his eyes widen, and his hand clutch compulsively at the hilt of his sword. When Lancelot silently pointed up at her tree, she realized that the commander was one of the few that hadn't seen her in her perch. She wondered briefly if he had worried about what might have happened to her, or what she might have done. At his palpable relief, she decide it was the former. She felt oddly touched.

But still she stayed, precariously balanced and clutching her bow tightly, her face drawn. The itch under her skin had yet to disappear. It had faded to a manageable level, yes, but it was still _there_. But… the animals were coming out, the forest filling with sound again. Daine would just have to assume that the immediate danger had passed. She'd stay aware; that was all she could do.

_Thank you, friends. _She reached out to the surrounding animals, reassuring them. She could feel their disappointment at being left out. _If you wish to help so, then maybe you could keep an eye out. Be my eyes where I cannot see._ She smiled to herself when she felt them rushing off to do as she asked.

Arthur approached her tree, cautious. Then in a low, soothing voice, as if calming a wild animal, "Lady. All is well now. Do you need help getting down?" Had he seen her apprehension?

She managed to muster up a wry smile. "If I needed help getting down, then how would I have gotten up? No, I can do it myself, but thank you." He smiled back at her, and nodded. He didn't move, obviously prepared to catch her if she fell.

Taking a firm hold of the branch beneath her, Daine swung down, alighting carefully on each branch between her and the ground. She'd made it a little more than halfway before she came to a large gap between branches. She paused for a moment, considering.

"Lady? Are you stuck?"

Daine switched her gaze to Arthur, fighting a grin. He was awfully worked up about this. "No. I'm fine." She looked to the ground again; it really wasn't _that_ far. "It _would_ be helpful if you stepped back a bit, though."

The dark man frowned, but stepped back. "What are you planning on doing? La—" His eyes widened in alarm, even as she braced herself. "Lady! Don't!" It was an order; too bad he wasn't _her_ commander.

Daine threw herself from her perch, landing crouched.

She rose unsteadily to her feet, shaking herself like a dog. She hadn't regained her bearings before Gawain had her by the shoulders, shaking her himself. "What do you think you're _doing!_" He gave her one last sharp shake, trying to drive his point home, and Daine braced her hands against his chest.

"Of all the _idiotic, _hare-brained _stunts_." Lancelot stalked towards her, scowling darkly. He stopped scant feet away from her, trembling with fury, visibly restraining himself. Daine twisted in Gawain's grasp to look the angry man in the eye. He turned on Arthur. "I revise my opinion, Arthur. This _girl_ is not a danger to us. She's a danger to herself!"

Dagonet pushed past the shocked Galahad and Bors, and gently extracted the shaken woman from the other man's hold. "Gawain, Lancelot, calm down."

"Calm down?!" Daine started at Lancelot's bellow. She clutched reflexively at the large man's leather jerkin.

Dagonet glared at him. "Yes. Calm down. Can't you tell how you've shaken her."

Gawain laughed incredulously. "Shaken? She should be shaken! She just jumped out of a _tree!_"

"But she was absolutely _fine_ until you two started on her!" Daine shuddered; this was the first time she'd heard the gentle giant yell. The rising tension was almost tangible to her enhanced senses. Almost painful.

The seasoned father in Bors rose to the surface at the lost look in Daine's eyes. He shook himself out of his stupor and put a firm hand on the small of her back, leading her over to a fallen log. Then, gruffly, "Sit down, girl. I know how exhausting your first battle with the Woads can be." He stood carefully in front of her, using his wide girth to block her sight of the ardently arguing men. He fished his traveling canteen from his saddlebags and shoved it into her hands. "Here, drink."

She gave him a grateful smile, taking a deep drink from the canteen. Then she eyed Arthur wearily when he crouched down in front of her. She was tired; everything was just starting to wear on her. She could handle getting caught during a spying mission. She could deal with misplacing Kit. She didn't even really mind being dumped in a whole new word and being forced to fight. But to mix them all together…

It was hard.

The sound of Arthur clearing his throat brought her eyes back into focus. He was looking at her with concern. "Are you alright?"

She only nodded.

"Have you done that before? Or was that the first time?" When she opened her mouth to protest, Arthur raised a hand. "Please. I must know."

Daine sighed. "I don't see why you're so bothered. It wasn't that high."

"Please."

"I've jumped from higher. I've had to. Does that answer your question?"

Arthur nodded curtly, but continued to eye her strangely. Then he called out, "Dagonet!" The big man fell silent, turning to give his full attention to his commander. "Make sure Daine hasn't hurt herself."

"I'm fine, really!"

"I'd still feel better if I knew that for certain."

Daine sighed, but sat back. "Fine."

As Dagonet went about checking her legs and back for damage, Daine turned her attention back to Lancelot and Gawain. The two had calmed down some, but were still visibly scowling. It was Lancelot's scowl that confused her the most. Didn't he…

"Lancelot? Why do you care?" The dark man's dark look got darker, then he stormed off, into the woods. She stared after him, and sighed. He was probably going to look for something to kill.

She reached out to the all the animals within her full range; she didn't know how far he would go. _People. Listen. An angry twolegger is out in the woods; __**Do not**__ approach him. That includes you, Paw Brothers. Just watch out for him. Do not let him be hurt._

More comfortable, knowing he would be safe, Daine turned her focus back on Arthur. The man ran a hand through is dark curls, and sighed. "He'll be fine. He knows what he's doing…"

She couldn't help but think that he was trying to reassure himself, just as much as he was trying to reassure her. She could only hope that Lancelot came back soon. For all their sakes. She didn't like the idea of loosing track of yet _another_ companion. First Kit, then Tristan, next... well, she hoped there wouldn't be a next.

Daine's eyes widened in alarm.

She'd forgotten Kit!


End file.
